


Bordersauce Communication

by lilyleia78



Category: House
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyleia78/pseuds/lilyleia78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House buys Wilson dinner and uses condiments to ask an important question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House buys Wilson dinner, so you know he's got an ulterior motive.

  
“Taco Bell?” Wilson asked incredulously. He stared dubiously at the plastic bag his best friend had unceremoniously dumped on his desk.

“I’m thinking outside the Chinese Food carton,” House answered solemnly.

“Yes, well. What better way to repay my lovingly prepared home-cooked meals than with half a pound of processed beans and rice?”

“I got you cinnamon twists too,” House pointed out. “Besides I like the sayings on the Border sauce.”

Wilson snorted and took out his food. House was carefully removing his sauce packets and reading them to himself.

“Look Wilson, this one says ‘_I’m taking the day off. See next packet_.’ Think I could tape it to my door and go home?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be just fine with Cuddy. We’ll just tell her the taco sauce made you do it.” Wilson said while checking out his own sauce packet.

“I’ve left with less of an excuse before. What’s yours say?”

Wilson checked. “_Will you marry me?_” He braced himself for a scathing reply.

“Huh? Even your food knows you’re the marrying kind.” The diagnostician said mildly. He read his next one. “_Tah Dah!’_ I can carry that one around and whip it out next time I cleverly diagnosis a patient in time to save their pathetic little life.”

Wilson rolled his eyes and grabbed the next sauce from his bag. “_Will you marry me?’_ again.”

“Interesting,” was all House said. “_Will you scratch my back?_ Excellent, now I can get back scratches without even opening my mouth.”

Wilson rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. He had just pulled his third _Will you marry me? _packet. No way was he going to invite scorn by reading that one aloud again. Luckily, House seemed preoccupied with his own packets.

“_The feeling is mutual’_ Oh so many uses for that,” House said wistfully.

“You are really determined to communicate via sauce packets today, aren’t you?” Wilson joked. He looked up with a smile, but his expression turned inquisitive when House met his gaze with an incredibly intense look.

“Yes, I am.”

Wilson stared at the other man for a moment and looked down at the packets in his bag. Hands shaking slightly, he pulled them out and flipped all 10 over so that they were face up. Every single one said the same thing, ‘_Will you marry me?’ _He searched House’s face carefully. Before either man could speak, House’s pager went off.

“Gotta go. Lives to save, taco sauce packets to abuse,” House said airily and rushed off.

Wilson regarded the packets a little longer, glanced at his watch, and decided to go shopping.

***

When Wilson returned to the hospital, purchase in hand, the first thing he did was check House’s office. It was empty, but the backpack on the chair let him know that House hadn’t yet left for the day.

_Perfect, _Wilson thought to himself. He arranged things to his liking and returned to his own office. In the middle of House’s desk sat a small, cellophane bag of personalized M&amp;M’s. Written on each one of them was a single word – Yes.


	2. Wedding Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he has an answer, House lays down some ground rules.

  
When House found the bag of M&amp;Ms on his desk, his first thought was _‘Cool, free candy!’ _His second thought was that Kutner was sucking up again. But every thought he had stopped abruptly when he opened the bag and found a plain gold band among the chocolate candies.

_Romantic sap_, House scoffed affectionately as he slipped the ring on his finger. It was a perfect fit, and how Wilson knew his ring size was a mystery. House stared at the band for a minute, thoughts churning. Coming to a conclusion, he hauled himself up and headed for the balcony.

He hopped over the dividing wall and banged into Wilson’s office. It was getting late and Wilson was alone. Too bad really, Wilson hardly ever responded appropriately to his dramatic entrances. An audience would have been nice.

“We’d better get a few things straight right now,” he warned plopping down on the couch.

Wilson glanced up from his paperwork briefly before returning his attention back to the chart he was reviewing. It was subtle, but House didn’t miss the way those brown eyes had searched out his left hand before looking away. He grinned. If Wilson wanted to act like getting engaged was an everyday occurrence, he was game. _For Wilson it practically is an everyday occurrence_. House thought to himself.

“I’m not going along with any ridiculous wedding traditions. You’ve had lots of opportunities to get that crap out of your system.” House growled.

Wilson deliberately finished his task and put everything away before responding. He folded his hands atop his desk and gave House his full attention. House wondered if this was what James’s patients felt like when they were being evaluated.

“What are you counting as ridiculous wedding traditions?” he asked sensibly.

“No throwing bouquets, no unity candles, no throwing rice,” House began.

“I think you’re supposed to throw bird seed now. The rice expands in bird’s stomachs. Bird lovers are afraid they’ll blow up.” Wilson told him.

“That would be cool. Rice throwing is back up for consideration,” House said before continuing his list. “No receiving line, no temple, no carrying someone across the threshold and under no circumstances is my dad going to be walking me down the aisle.”

Wilson smiled at the image, but managed to stifle his laughter. “So you’re obviously the bride then. Will you be wearing a white gown?”

House glowered at him. “You get to be the bride. You’ve already played groom three times. I won’t make you wear the gown and veil, but you will have to wear a garter of my choosing.”

Wilson’s grin grew. “Should I move out for awhile to preserve the sanctity of the wedding night?”

House looked horrified. “You’d deprive your fiancée of sex? You’re supposed to love, honor and obey, not torture.”

Wilson gave up the battle to hold in his laughter. “Okay. What about a reception?”

House considered the matter. “A small one. I want chocolate cake, but no smashing it in my face.”

“You behave, and I’ll behave. That’s all I can promise. Shattering the glass?”

House hesitated now. He didn’t really believe in any of that religious crap, but, “Is it important to you?”

Wilson shrugged. “It’s important to my mother.”

“Fine, but I get to pick our music.”

“Done. Anything else?”

“Yes. None of this stupid name hyphenating thing. I’m staying House. You can call yourself whatever you want.”

“Fair enough,” Wilson said. “What are your feelings about a honeymoon?”

“An excuse to take an extra vacation that includes you naked? What do you _think_ my feelings are on that?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a deal. Do you want to shake on it?” Wilson’s tone was serious, but his eyes sparkled with mirth.

House leered at him. “Take me home and I can think of a more fun way to seal the deal.”

Wilson came around the desk and offered a hand. House took it and pulled himself up. Wilson kept hold of the hand, staring at his ring and gently stroking his thumb over it. House watched the oncologist for a moment before reaching his right hand into his pocket. He pulled out a gold band of his own.

Wilson looked up into startling blue eyes and held out his left hand, never releasing House. House slipped the ring on. It was also a perfect fit, but that wasn’t surprising. House had ways of getting information he wanted.

House pressed a tender to kiss to Wilson’s lips and then retrieved his cane. “Let’s go home.”


	3. Best Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House is marrying his best man, so who's gonna stand up with him.

  
“So how about it? Wanna be my best man?” House asked, carefully not looking at the woman he was addressing.

Cuddy smothered an affectionate smile and put a heavy dose of doubt in her voice. “You know I’m not actually a man, right?”

“Really?” House asked mockingly. “And here I thought those were airbags you were carrying around on your chest.” He flapped a hand at her dismissively. “You’re not a real doctor either. That doesn’t stop you from making all the underlings call you one anyway.”

Cuddy shot him a withering look and House rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. It’s not difficult or anything: I’ve done it lots of times. You just keep track of Wilson’s ring and then make a raunchy speech extolling my sexual prowess. I’ll get you my list of hookers if you need research material.”

“If I agree to this will you go away?”

“I promise.”

“Fine. I’ll be your best man…woman…whatever,” Cuddy agreed as she made shooing motions.

“The best woman at a gay wedding? How hard could that be?”

“House,” Cuddy said warningly, rubbing the spot between her eyes where her headache was forming.

“I know, I promised. You won’t see me the rest of the day.” Something in House’s voice sounded alarms in her head.

“You mean until clinic,” Cuddy ordered.

House was shuffling out of her door at top speed. “Sorry, gotta go. I wanna see if Cameron will be the flower girl. See you tomorrow!”


	4. Honeymoon Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Just give me a bed and lots of lube and I'm a happy husband."_

  
“We don’t have to go anywhere. Just give me a bed and lots of lube and I’m a happy husband.”

“Please stop. I can’t handle this level of romance at work,” Wilson replied deadpan.

“Fine, give me a bed, lots of lube and some candles. Anything to make my man happy,” House said in a tone that suggested this was a great sacrifice.

“Wow, I have never felt more loved than I do right now,” Wilson said as he returned his attention back to the brochures he’d picked up from his travel agent. “Maybe this bed could have an ocean view?”

“Why? I don’t intend to have the curtains open,” House eyed Wilson speculatively. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing…”

Wilson just smiled enigmatically at his fiancé. “Seriously, we have to decide today so I can make the reservations.”

“Seriously I don’t see why we can’t honeymoon in my – _our_ – bed, our couch, our bathtub, our kitchen table, our...”

“I see where you’re going with this, and I appreciate your confidence in our stamina and the sturdiness of our furniture. However, we really have to leave town.”

“Why?” House whined.

“Because if we stay here your drones will track you down,” Wilson answered. “They’ll have some fascinating, unsolvable case. Foreman will forbid them to ask for your help and, because you’ve trained them so well, they’ll find you just to spite him.”

“Then you’ll just have to provide me with something more interesting to do than treat this hypothetical patient,” House leered.

“24 hours a day for a week solid? I’ll chafe.”

“Fine,” House sighed. “Wuss. No beaches though; they’re not handicap accessible. And I want someplace with Soapnet.”

“So your only requirements are no beaches and Soapnet,” Wilson clarified.

“No my only requirements are you naked and lube, but if we must be away from the comforts of home then I need to have access to my soaps. It’ll keep me entertained while you recuperate between the fun bits.”

“Great!” Wilson said cheerfully. “Disney World it is.”

“Fine,” House nodded. “Wait, what? You want to spend our honeymoon with a giant talking mouse?”

“It’s the happiest place on earth,” Wilson said as if that explained everything. House mumbled something unintelligible. “What was that?” Wilson asked, bracing himself for a scathing retort.

House rolled his eyes and repeated in an irritated tone. “Good, then I’ll fit right in.”

Wilson stared at him in stunned silence for a few minutes before leaning over and planting a hungry kiss on House’s mouth.

“Take me home, House. I want to fuck you right through the mattress.”

House swallowed against the dryness in his throat and vowed to give this romance thing a try more often. Much more often…


	5. Party Plans, House MD (House/Wilson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House arranges for Wilson to have a bachelor party

  
"I need you to throw Wilson a bachelor party," House announced to Foreman as he strode into the conference room. "Get Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb here to help," he continued with a jerk of his thumb in the direction of Kutner and Taub.

Then with a speculative look at Thirteen he added, "You too. You've got bigger balls than the other two put together."

"Neat!" Kutner declared, bouncing in his chair with excitement.

"No," Foreman scowled. "Not neat. You can't just demand that we throw Wilson a party."

"I thought you liked Wilson," House said with a look of confusion. "Is this a racial thing? He's Jewish, so you don't want to get drunk with him at a strip club?"

Foreman rolled his eyes but didn't bother to dignify that with a response. Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, House went on, "Or is it because we're gay?" He glanced quickly at Thirteen. "Bi, whatever. No, it can't be that. I've seen the way you look at Chase."

The neurologist began to say something, thought better of it, and visibly calmed himself before speaking. "Shouldn't the best man be doing something? Or is there no one out there willing to stand up for Wilson while he throws his life away on you?"

"Ouch. Careful there Sparky – you might give me the impression you don't think I'm good enough for The Boy Wonder."

"Wouldn't want to do that," Thirteen muttered while pointedly studying the charts on the table.

House gave her his best wounded puppy look, which she completely ignored, before answering Foreman's question. "Wilson's brother fully supports us." Off of Taub's skeptical look, he amended, "Okay, fully supports Wilson. He can't come down until right before the wedding, but he offered to pay if someone else will take over organization."

"I'm surprised you didn't just take the money and run," Thirteen said with a sigh, reluctantly being pulled into the conversation.

"I can't believe you think so little of me!"

House took a moment to enjoy the looks on the faces of his fellows. Thirteen, Taub, and Foreman were coming along nicely, he decided. Their 'you're an idiot' looks were almost on par with his. Kutner though…he looked torn between guilt and indignation on his behalf. If he didn't know better, House would swear that boy was Cameron and Chase's love child.

Remembering why they were giving him these fascinating looks, House defended himself further. "I would never take money from my future brother-in-law."

"Because Wilson wouldn't let him." The deeply familiar voice came from the conference room doorway. House turned to face his beloved.

"Wilson," he whined. "You're going to ruin my selfless reputation."

A quick grin flashed across the oncologist's face before it was replaced with a look of sympathetic concern. "Sorry. I didn't mean to shatter anybody's illusions of the kind-hearted, generous Dr. Gregory House."

A snort escaped Foreman, and House spared him a scowl before turning his attention back to Wilson. "What are you doing here? Aren't there adorable, balding kids you could be saving?"

"Nah, only the ugly ones are left." Wilson shrugged.

House's mouth twitched in an involuntary smile. "I see."

"I came to make sure you weren't coercing your staff into throwing a party for me against their will," Wilson explained. Although there was no venom in his voice, Foreman and Taub had the grace to look abashed.

"He's not forcing us," Kutner insisted. "We want to."

Wilson glanced at the enthusiastic young man and then quirked an eyebrow at House. House rolled his eyes in answer.

Out loud Wilson responded directly to the eager fellow. "There's no need. I got a volunteer."

House frowned. Before he could investigate this new development, a young blonde man walked in. Glancing up from the clipboard in his hands, Chase's eyes fell on Wilson.

"Here you are. Should've known. Do you want to provide food for the party or should we stick to tradition and offer a liquid diet only?"

House cut off Wilson's answer. "You volunteered?"

When Chase nodded, Forman injected his opinion, "Suck-up."

Chase leveled a look of incredulity at him. "It's a free party with alcohol, strippers, and a ban on House. I'm not a suck-up. You're short sighted."

Taub and Kutner verbally fell all over themselves trying to volunteer any help he needed. Foreman, with as much dignity as he could muster, announced, "I'll help. For Wilson, of course."

"Of course," Wilson said dryly.

"Aww," House cooed. "Is my sweetie feeling unwanted? I still love you Pookie."

Wilson's brow furrowed briefly with real concern for House's sanity, but then he caught the identical looks of horror on the faces of the others in the room. He moved closer. "Do you really, Sugar Lips?"

"Of course Honey Bear." House pulled Wilson into his arms.

"I love you too, Sweet Cheeks." Wilson snuggled his face into House's neck to hide the mirth threatening to burst out of him.

"Want to bend me over the desk and show me how much?" House raised his voice to be certain the entire floor heard him.

Wilson was still laughing long after the five other doctors had fled the scene.


	6. Holding out for a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddy manages to seriously mess up House's bachelor party. Luckily, she knows what - or rather who - can fix it.

  
"Cuddy," House mused to his best man, "have I ever told you about the recurring nightmare I've been having since getting engaged?"

"Does it involve black ties, a string quartet, and fish eggs served on crackers?" She asked in a defeated voice as she and House surveyed the described scene playing out before them.

"No actually, there's a big bowl of curry and Taub in a speedo." House pulled a face to convey the depths of his terror before continuing. "But I think that's all going to change after tonight. From here on out it'll be nothing but sweet, sweet dreams of revenge upon the perpetrator of this freak show."

"I know." Cuddy muttered darkly, apparently to herself. "I'll have her head."

House tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. Noticing the scrutiny, Cuddy said, "I'm sorry. She was so eager, and I didn't think anyone _could_ screw up a bachelor party for heaven's sake."

House was confused, a feeling he hated. His scowl deepened. "This is my bachelor party? I thought you'd just duped me into attending one of your little charity events that the donors like so much."

"I let Cameron plan it." Cuddy sighed in defeat then placed her hands on her hips defensively, turning to face House. "Believe it or not, House. I actually have a lot of other things on my plate besides being your best man, like that little hobby of mine, what is it? Oh yeah, running a hospital. Cameron offered to help."

"She couldn't have helped with something less important? Like signing off on nurse's rotations, or placating self-important windbags."

"I thought planning this bachelor party was placating a self-important windbag." Cuddy said.

House ignored that completely. He was looking around the banquet room with a mixture of incredulity and dismay on his face. "So instead of putting her somewhere where she'd do the least amount of damage, you let her set up a black-tie cocktail party in this, this pathetic excuse for a luxury hotel?"

"I didn't _let_ her exactly," Cuddy protested. "She told me she wanted to use a hotel. It was for you; I assumed her reasons were nefarious."

"You weren't at all suspicious of the invitations requesting 'black tie"

Cuddy cringed, but rolled her eyes defiantly. "High class prostitutes?"

"You wish," House retorted.  
Cameron approached the man of the hour with a huge smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. "House! Are you surprised? Isn't it wonderful?" She turned to survey the crowd of hospital personnel mingling near the refreshment table.

"Oh, yeah. Just like my senior prom – filled with lots of people I don't like and no chance of me getting laid."

Cameron's face fell in spectacular fashion before it hardened in anger. "At your age, I'd thought you'd prefer something slightly more dignified than a dimly light room of naked bodies."

"Thinking's not really your strong suit, is it?" House asked.

The blonde woman threw up her hands in defeat and stomped away muttering darkly, "I don't know why I even try."

"At least Wilson's having fun," House said to no one in particular as he slumped into a chair.

Cuddy quietly excused herself and flipped open her phone. Maybe she could avoid the 100 hours of clinic duty she was going to have to let House out of to make this fiasco up to him if she did some fast talking.  
**  
House was seconds away from faking a seizure in order to escape the tedium that had become his life when he heard a commotion from nearby, possibly the hotel lobby. It sounded like someone out there was enjoying their night a lot more than he was enjoying his. He wondered if anyone would notice if he joined the fun crowd. Not that he cared if they did.

There was no time to contemplate any further action as the doors to their private banquet room were flung open. Framed in the doorway, like some shining knight of old, stood Wilson, behind him, his glorious army – of strippers.

"My hero," House whispered gratefully to himself.

Wilson made a beeline for his astonished fiancé while the professionals accompanying him quickly took over the room. House grinned gleefully when the string quartet in the corner was usurped by the jazz trio Wilson had brought along.

"I'm here to rescue you," Wilson announced proudly as he took a seat next to House.

"You just couldn't resist could you?"

"You know me and damsels in distress."

House scowled at the description, but Wilson was not to be deterred. He wrapped his hands around House's waist and drug the other man onto his lap, so effortlessly careful of the right leg that House almost didn't notice.

Pulling a face of annoyance, but not moving from his perch, House took a moment to survey his reformed party. Taub was chatting up a slim brunette whom House was certain was really a man. Kutner had drug Thirteen out onto the dance floor. Or maybe it was the other way around; House had missed that part. Foreman was holding court with a group of wide-eyed innocents (must be friends of Cameron, House thought to himself). Cameron herself was standing in a corner, pouting and deliberately ignoring the gaggle of strippers showering their attention on Chase.

And man where there a lot of strippers. House was glad that Wilson's brother had paid for them. House liked strippers, but there had to be a least a dozen. That couldn't be cheap. Although, he appreciated that they were currently giving Wilson the erection pressed happily against his hip.

He turned toward his fiancé to say something snarky about his libido and found warm brown eyes caressing his back. Oh, he thought stupidly, not the strippers then.

Surrounded by beautiful half-naked men and women, the panty peeler of Princeton-Plainsboro wanted him. Warmth that he thought he should be used to by now filled him, and he knew he'd have gladly paid the wages of every stripper in New Jersey and New York just for this knowledge. Although pain of death and/or rehab wouldn't make it him admit that out loud.

If he'd had two healthy legs, House would have spun around to straddle the object of his desire. He would have pushed his burgeoning erection into Wilson's already hard one and rocked them steadily together until his dress pants were covered in two kinds of cum. And damn the audience.

Instead he turned until Wilson's cock was lined up against his ass crack and wiggled as if settling himself. Above the music and cheering crowd he heard Wilson gasp. House smiled wickedly and began to rock ever-so-slowly on Wilson's lap.

Wilson's hands shot out to frantically to grab House's hips. Whether to stop him or speed him up House wasn't sure, and he didn't wait to find out. He stood up as quickly as he could in his condition and held out a hand for his lover.

Wilson ignored it and stood up on his own. House didn't move and now they were standing chest-to-chest. Wilson reached up to cup the back of House's neck and pulled him in for an agonizingly tender kiss. House swiped his tongue across Wilson's lips, and the other man opened for him. He thrust is tongue in forcefully and rhythmically, in mimicry of want he wanted, turning the sweet kiss frantic and dirty.

Wilson got the message. He turned and led the way toward the reception desk. House glanced back at the party, hoping everyone noticed him leaving with the hottest guy in the room and saw Cuddy smiling at them. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that maybe she wasn't the worst best man after all.


	7. Committed, House MD (House/Wilson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main event is finally here.

  
"Come on. There's gambling and legalized prostitution!" House whined.

"Believe it or not House, neither of those things is actually a selling point for me. If you wanted to elope, you should have thought of that a couple of months ago." Wilson pointed out.

"And that's another thing, why did this have to take so long?"

Wilson sighed. They had discussed this many times over the past three months. And Wilson had explained again on the long ride to his parents' house. "My mother insisted this was the fastest she could put anything together. Give her a break. She has three boys. She never thought she'd get to plan a wedding, even if it is a handful of people in her backyard."

"So you admit you're the bride?"

"I am the one wearing the garter."

House was instantly pressed against Wilson, hand clenching at the garter hidden under pants. "I could fix that for you," he said huskily.

Wilson scowled and batted House's hand away, but his eyes belied his disapproving expression. "Get off you letch. You'll have to wait until you've made an honest man of me."

"An honest man out of you? Great, now I'll never get laid," House smirked but, for once, did as he was told and picked up his cane. "Alright, let's get this over with." He paused before opening the door. "See you out there. I'll be the unbearably handsome one bitching about my best man's breasts taking attention away from my special day."

Wilson grinned and made shooing motions with his hands. House limped out, and Wilson laughed out loud when he saw both of their mothers snatch the older man up. Then he turned to the mirror, straightened his hair, and took a deep breath before following.

He met House in his parent's backyard in front of his family's rabbi. His mother had been disappointed when he vetoed the idea of walking down the aisle with her. He had argued that the slow march was an unnecessary hardship on House. And while that was true, the real reason was that he didn't want anyone giving House to him. He'd been given three women to take care of and had failed. Failure with House was not an option.

When it came time to recite their vows, Wilson went with the standard route. He'd done the traditional Jewish thing, he'd done the writing-his-own, and he'd even done the written-by-his-future-wife thing. But when he did some online research he discovered that a variation on the conventional seemed to say everything that needed to be said.

"House, I take you to be my not-quite-lawfully wedded husband," Wilson began. The side of House's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you with all your faults and your strengths as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths."

Wilson paused briefly for House's inevitable comment about who drew the short straw, but the older man was uncharacteristically silent. So Wilson concluded, "I will help you when you need help, and I will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life."

House, who hadn't bothered to find out what Wilson would be saying, could only stare in wonderment for a few moments. Wilson pretended not to notice the shine in House's eyes as he gently nudged the other man. "I know, put that way I'm obviously getting a raw deal." House smiled gratefully as the ensuing laughter gave him a moment to compose himself. "You say stuff now," Wilson told him a stage whisper.

Instead House limped over to the band and sat at the piano. When he began to play, the small crowd in the yard became silent. Wilson was sure he wouldn't have realized they were still there even if they'd been shouting.

He recognized the piece as one House had tinkered with many times over the years. It was their story, Wilson realized with a start. It had no lyrics, but Wilson heard the words anyway. There in the beginning was joy and discovery; every once in awhile melancholy would creep in, more often the song was loud, passionate, and untamed. And running through the whole thing was love and longing.

After exchanging rings and kissing his new husband, House used his cane to dramatically help Wilson shatter the glass. The gathered crowd cheered uproariously, and the rabbi said those magical words. "I now pronounce you doomed for life."

Cuddy's scolding cry of "House!" could barely be heard over Wilson's hearty laughter. Oh, yes he was doomed. And he had big plans to love every minute of it.


End file.
